


i never get used to silence

by knight_tracer, thisissirius



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Different Teams, Long Distance Soulbond, M/M, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Available, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:39:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knight_tracer/pseuds/knight_tracer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Patrick grits his teeth, knows the hit was a week ago, which means Jonny’s been playing through concussion symptoms for three games. He doesn’t know exactly what he wants to say, only know that he’s beyond angry. He doesn’t even want to </i>look<i> at Jonny right now - or be inside his head. </i></p>
<p>Or the one where Jonny gets a concussion, and Patrick hates the silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i never get used to silence

**Author's Note:**

> **Siri's notes:** I mostly have to thank knight_tracer, without whom this project wouldn't have started, and certainly wouldn't have been finished. She has been a champ through this whole thing, and the podfic she created for this fic is FLAWLESS, so please please please listen because it is amazing and everything about it is the perfect compliment to this. She also had the idea for this fic, something I've been wanting to do for ages.
> 
> It's a ton of fun being able to write a fic in order for it to be podficced for someone. It's certainly a challenge.
> 
> **knight's notes:** Thank you siri for playing with me! I had a lot of fun  <333 Working with a story written for podfic is one of my favourite things! 
> 
> Also, thanks to the mods at [Pod together lightening](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pt_lightning/profile), even though we didn't meet their deadline they were awesome. Check out the other collab projects over [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pt_lightning_round2)

Podfic Length:10:49

Podfic Links: [mp3](http://knight-tracer.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/I%20never%20get%20used%20to%20silence.mp3) | [m4b](http://knight-tracer.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/I%20never%20get%20used%20to%20silence.m4b) (Right-click, select 'save as')

Patrick’s forgotten what silence sounds like. 

He’s never alone in his head and it’s not like he ever gets silence in his hockey life; Sharpy never leaves him alone, and there’s always someone invading his condo and his space. They say it’s because they don’t want him to get into trouble, but he has Jonathan Toews in his head and they know it, so their logic is flawed. Maybe he’s just the soul of the blackhawks. 

Jonny snorts. _Yeah right._

Patrick resists the urge to laugh. _Someone who has the moniker “Captain Serious” shouldn’t throw stones in that little glass house of his._

_Fuck you._

Patrick’s long since accustomed to what sulkiness through a bond feels like. He rolls his eyes and goes back to digging in his freezer. He really should chuck out most of this shit, but whatever, he’ll let Jonny do it when he’s next in Chicago. 

Jonny mentally wrinkles his nose. _That’s like, three weeks away. You’re disgusting._

Patrick ignores him and shuts the door of the freezer with his hip, grabbing the open beer bottle from the island and padding barefoot into the living room. _I do what I want._

 _Sadly_ , Jonny says, and then something fizzles out. 

Patrick frowns, says Jonny’s name a couple of times before the static in his head clears and Jonny’s back. _What the fuck was that?_

_Nothing. It’s quick, too quick, but Patrick doesn’t say anything about it. He knows better than to try and force Jonny into explaining shit. He shuts down, shuts Patrick _out_ , and it’s fuckng awful for everyone involved. _

__

\--- 

He regrets that three weeks later, when he wakes gasping and clasping at his sheets, a giant space in his head where Jonny should be.

_Jonny?!_

There’s no answer for a moment, but when it comes, it’s almost like it’s covered in static, and Jonny’s voice is strained. _I’m okay._

It’s not an answer, and Patrick swings his legs out of the bed, running his hands through his hair. _What happened?_

Jonny takes a moment to reply. _Uh._

Patrick snarls aloud and inside of his head. _Tell me what the fuck happened._

The static increases and Jonny’s answer, when it comes, sounds distant. _I was hit. They think it’s a concussion._

Patrick grits his teeth, knows the hit was a week ago, which means Jonny’s been playing through concussion symptoms for three games. He doesn’t know exactly what he wants to say, only know that he’s beyond angry. He doesn’t even want to _look_ at Jonny right now - or be inside his head. 

He and Jonny have been soul bonded since the World Junior Championships, when an ill-advised puck steal had him slamming head-first into Jonny, giving them both a headache and a soul bond that’s been a godsend and a giant pain in the ass for the last six years. He remembers what they were both feeling the day Jonny went first overall and ended up on the Blues. It meant Patrick was going to end up on a different team, playing in a different city, and their soul bond would be pushed to its limits. 

Patrick spent the first year in Chicago alternating between throwing up, making friends with half of the team, and whining to Jonny that his bed was too cold without him.

Patrick _really_ hates silence. He walks into the living room, tipping face-first onto the couch. He can't resist asking, _Is this-_

 _Talking hurts_ , Jonny admits in a small voice. _Can we do this later?_

 _No, it feels weird_ , Patrick says, and turns over, reaching one-handed for his laptop. Jonny doesn't reply. Patrick doesn’t know if that’s because Jonny isn’t talking, or if their connection has dropped out completely. He feels sick. _Jonny?_

Whenever Jonny’s not actively thinking at him, there’s just static where his emotions and thoughts usually are. He's used toad lot of noise, he realises. They’re always arguing about whose mind is the most disorganized, because Jonny likes to think that he’s all collected and ordered, but he’s really not, and Patrick knows that his thoughts are a mess. Patrick doesn’t remember when he didn’t have Jonny in his head, so he says _please_ because he doesn't know what else to do.

 _Skype_ , Jonny says at last. 

Waiting for Jonny’s icon to turn green is the worst, mostly because Patrick’s used to getting feedback on whatever Jonny’s doing at any given time in relation to him. Now he’s not getting anything except a dull static where Jonny should be. 

Patrick wastes no time accepting the conversation link, and when he finally sees Jonny’s face, he feels his body relax. He's practically clinging to the laptop, even though it’s balanced well on the arm of the couch. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jonny’s sitting in the dark, and his face looks paler than usual. 

“I don’t like this,” Patrick says, because he’s a little bit selfish sometimes. “This fucking sucks.”

“I’ll be sure to avoid the hit I don’t see coming next time,” Jonny says, but his words lack the bite he’s probably aiming for. He just looks tired. 

Patrick runs a hand over his face. “You know what I mean. It’s all-” He waves a hand around his head and hopes Jonny knows he’s talking about the bond. “-and I’m used to just knowing.”

Jonny smiles, suddenly, though it’s small. “You were worried about me.”

Scowling, Patrick looks away from the screen for a moment and nods. “Duh. It’s a concussion and I can’t-”

“Yeah.” Jonny talks over him, which usually irritates Patrick like fuck, but whatever. At least he can see Jonny’s okay, even if he can’t feel it. “I’ll be okay.”

“How long?” 

Jonny’s face falls a little, not obvious to the untrained eye, but Patrick’s been looking with eyes and mind long enough to know the tells. He recovers quickly, shrugging, which means nobody knows. “It’s a mild concussion. Not like I’ll be out for months or anything.”

“Stop beating yourself up,” Patrick says. 

Jonny scowls. “I’m not.”

“You’re an awful liar.” Patrick sits up, pulling the laptop onto his knees. “I might not be able to feel you right now, but I know you well enough after all this time.”

Jonny’s lip twitches into a smile. “For my sins.”

“Fuck you,” Patrick says on reflex. “‘I’m not even sure twelve years is enough time to get used to him’, isn’t that what you’re always telling my mom?”

There’s a long silence, but Jonny doesn’t look away from Patrick once. “I’m a terrible liar, though.”

It takes a minute for Patrick to realise what Jonny’s trying to say, and he flushes. “Just used to me?”

“Fishing for compliments?” Jonny's grinning, so Patrick shrugs.

“I can’t exactly tell whether you mean it.” It’s a lie, because Patrick’s pretty sure, but even when you live in someone’s head all the time, you can never be certain whether you’re seeing what’s really there, or what they want you to see. 

Jonny’s face softens and Patrick’s chest tightens. “You know me better than that.”

He does; when Jonny’s in Chicago, he practically lives in Patrick’s condo, and even if Patrick will go to his grave telling whoever will listen that St. Louis and Winnipeg are simultaneously the worst places in all of North America, he still willingly stays with Jonny during the season in the former, and half of the summer in the latter and loves every second of it. Well, not every second, but as long as Jonny’s there, he can tough it out. 

“Listen to your fucking doctors,” Patrick says at last, because he doesn’t know how to begin saying all that aloud. “I’ll be in St. Louis in a couple of weeks anyway.”

“Can’t wait,” Jonny says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but even without their bond, Patrick can see the truth behind it. 

Patrick grins. “I love you too, asshole.”

Jonny gives him one of those soft looks again. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Duh. Now go and lie down.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Jonny gives him a mock salute, but Patrick feels a light brush in the bond, even though it’s a little fuzzy and Jonny’s looking pained on the screen. 

He gives back as much as he dares. “I do, you know.”

Jonny nods. “I know. Clean out out your fucking freezer.”

Patrick thinks he can even deal with this weird silence in his head as long as Skyping isn’t a no-go area as far as Jonny's doctors are concerned.

\--- 

Patrick’s settled on the couch that night with some popcorn and a _Twlight_ movie on his TV when he gets a text. It’s from TJ of all people, and Patrick’s reflex is to delete it, until he reads what it says.

_Jonny says if he sees any out-of-date food, he’s going to kick your ass??????_

Patrick laughs out loud and sends back, _Tell Jonny I’m saving it all for him._

Edward and the werewolf guy are having a heart-to-heart while Bella’s sleeping the next time he checks his phone and sees TJ’s responded twice and Jonny once.

TJ's are pretty much par for the course where he's concerned. The first says, _Jonny says you won’t get fucked for a week if that stuff is anywhere in your apartment when he gets there_ , and Patrick grins when he sees the second; _I am not being your soul bond stand-in for the length of this concussion._

Jonny's reply actually makes Patrick laugh out loud. _A lost bet says TJ is being our soul bond stand-in for the length of this concussion._

Patrick’s definitely sure he can deal with the silence.

the end 


End file.
